“For we walk by faith, not by sight.”
2 Corinthians 5:7 ESV

I saw these words recently on a bag from one of the school children, hanging in the passage at school. It was such an ordinary thing, and yet somehow those words felt as though they had been placed there just for me. For we walk by faith, not by sight. I stood there thinking, Lord, this is exactly where I have been struggling.

I have been struggling with faith for a long time. That is not an easy thing for me to admit. Those who have known me for many years would probably describe me as someone with strong faith. Some might even say I have had tremendous, admirable faith. And I suppose I did. I had what I would call a childlike faith. I believed God. I trusted Him. I prayed. I stepped out. Even when I did not understand what He was doing, I could somehow believe that He would work things out.

But something changed.

I think some losses reach places in us that we do not fully understand until much later. Losing Elizabeth did something to my faith. Losing my sister did something to my faith. I did not stop believing in God. I did not stop loving Him. I did not walk away from Him. But somewhere along the way, trust became harder.

Perhaps because I had seen too much. I had experienced things I never imagined I would have to experience. I had prayed prayers that were not answered in the way I desperately wanted them to be answered. And somewhere deep inside me, something began to ask, What if? What if something else happens? What if the thing I am afraid of actually happens? What if I trust God and the outcome is still painful?

Those questions are difficult to admit, especially when you have spent much of your life encouraging other people to trust God. But I have come to realise something about myself. Life feels much easier when we can see. When we can see what lies ahead, we can make plans. We can prepare. We can calculate. We can convince ourselves that everything is going to be okay. When we can see the road ahead, we feel that we have some measure of security.

But when we cannot see, everything changes. The future becomes unknown, and for some of us, the unknown is a very difficult place to live. When I cannot see what is ahead, my mind wants to fill in the gaps. Unfortunately, it does not always fill those gaps with possibilities. It often fills them with everything that could go wrong.

There is something else I have had to acknowledge about myself. I find it much easier to trust when I feel that I have some measure of control. If I can manage something, plan it, organise it or influence the outcome, I feel safer. But what about the things I cannot manage? What about the things I cannot manipulate into the outcome I want? What about the things that are completely outside my control? That is where faith becomes uncomfortable.

When things are going well, faith can feel easy. We thank God for His goodness. We praise Him for His provision. We trust Him for tomorrow. But then uncertainty comes. The loss. The disappointment. The unanswered prayer. The financial concern. The closed door. The future we cannot predict. Suddenly faith is no longer simply something we talk about. It is challenged. Because now we have to trust God without being able to see how the story will unfold.

I think that is where I have been. I have been asking myself over the past few days why it has become so difficult for me to trust God with the unseen. And perhaps this is part of the answer. It is not necessarily that I do not believe God is good. It is that I struggle to trust His goodness when I cannot see what is coming next.

When I look back, I can see His faithfulness. I can see the times He carried me. I can see the doors He opened. I can see the provision that came. I can see the things I once thought would break me, and I can see that somehow, by His grace, I came through them. Looking back is easier because I have the evidence. Looking forward is different. There is no evidence yet. There is only the unknown. And that is where faith is being asked of me.

I have been reading about Job again, and I find myself thinking about him differently now. If God allowed Job to experience such devastating loss, who am I to think that I will be protected from every painful thing? That thought frightens me. I wish I could tell you that I have overcome it, but I haven't.

I have prayed about this many times. I have asked God to help me trust Him again. And strangely enough, the prayer that brings me the most peace is not, “Lord, protect me from pain.” I cannot always pray that prayer honestly. I know too much about life. I know that pain is part of living in a broken world. I know that being a Christian does not mean being exempt from suffering.

So my prayer has become much simpler: Lord, strengthen me. Strengthen me so that whatever happens, I will be strong enough to walk through it with You. Give me grace for what comes. Give me courage when fear rises. Help me trust You when I cannot understand. Help me remember Your faithfulness when I cannot see what You are doing.

There is something about that prayer that settles my heart. It does not ask God to promise me a painless life. It asks Him to strengthen me for whatever lies ahead.

Perhaps this is where God is taking my faith. Not back to the faith I had before, but deeper. Perhaps mature faith is not the absence of questions. Perhaps it is learning that we can have questions and still hold on to God. Perhaps faith is not always feeling certain. Perhaps sometimes faith is simply taking the next step.

Maybe I have been looking at faith as though it means being completely confident about the outcome. But perhaps that is not faith at all. Perhaps faith is trusting God with the outcome precisely because we cannot see it.

For we walk by faith, not by sight.

Not because we can see everything ahead. Not because we understand everything behind us. Not because we know that nothing painful will ever happen again. We walk by faith because we know the One who walks with us.

And maybe that is the faith I am learning now. A quieter faith. A more honest faith. A faith that has cried, questioned and been disappointed. A faith that has known loss. But a faith that is still here. Still reaching for God. Still praying. Still choosing to trust. Still walking.

Perhaps it is not the blind, childlike faith I once had. Perhaps it is a faith that is learning to see differently. A faith that no longer needs to see the whole road before taking the next step. A faith that is slowly learning that I do not have to control tomorrow in order to be safe in God's hands today.

And perhaps, after everything I have been through, that is not little faith after all. Perhaps it is faith learning how to walk again.

If you have ever loved God deeply and yet found yourself struggling to trust Him after disappointment, loss or unanswered prayer, you are not alone.

I created When Trust Feels Fragile, a free devotional to help you navigate those difficult places where faith and disappointment meet, and discover that even when you cannot understand what God is doing, you are never beyond His reach.

Get your free copy and join me as we learn to trust God, even when we cannot see the whole story.

[Yes, I’d love the free devotional]